Language and the Soul of a Nation: Why the Nigerian Academy of Letters Wants Our Classrooms Decolonized
If you grew up in a Nigerian primary school, you probably remember the dreaded "Speaking of Vernacular" rule. In many schools, if a child was caught speaking Igbo, Yoruba, Hausa, or any other indigenous language, they were punished. Sometimes they were fined, other times they were made to wear a shameful placard around their neck. The message was loud and clear: your mother tongue is a sign of backwardness, and English is the only path to intelligence.
Fast forward to 2026, and we are finally starting to realize the deep damage that mindset has caused. The Nigerian Academy of Letters (NAL), which is the peak body for scholars in the humanities, recently held its 28th convocation in Lagos. While the event was a celebration of academic excellence, it was also a call to battle for the soul of Nigerian culture. The academy inducted 46 new members, including the philosopher and senior pastor, Prof Oladele Balogun. But beyond the gowns and the certificates, the most important thing to come out of that room was a desperate cry for the decolonization of our classrooms.
The Problem of Borrowed Tools
The President of the Academy, Prof Andrew Haruna, stood before the assembly and delivered a message that every parent and policymaker needs to hear. He argued that for decades, Nigeria has been trying to build a nation using borrowed linguistic tools. He pointed out that when we force a child to master a foreign language like English before they even understand the basic concepts of what is being taught, we are not just making learning harder. We are actually fracturing their identity.
Think about it in practical terms. A child in a village who knows what a "leaf" is in their local language has to first learn the English word for it before they can understand the science of photosynthesis. By the time they have translated the words in their head, the lesson has moved on. Prof Haruna is right: it is a serious threat to our intellectual growth. We are teaching children how to repeat words, but we are not teaching them how to think deeply in their own reality.
The Threat of Language Extinction
Prof Oladele Balogun, who is also a high ranking official in the Redeemed Christian Church of God, brought the conversation closer to home. He issued a stern warning that our indigenous languages are at risk of total extinction. And the blame, according to him, does not just lie with the government. It lies with us, the parents.
There is a strange trend among modern Nigerian families where parents believe that speaking English exclusively to their children is a sign of "elite" status. We send our children to expensive schools where they learn about the history of London but cannot greet their own grandparents in their native tongue. Prof Balogun noted that this problem is even worse among families who send their children abroad. We are raising a generation of Nigerians who have no linguistic roots. If we do not deliberately choose to speak these languages at home and teach them in schools, they will disappear within two generations. A people without a language is a people without a memory.
The Science of the Mother Tongue
The guest lecturer at the event, Prof Imelda Udoh, took the argument from the emotional to the scientific. She explained that nation building actually begins with the language in which a child first learns to think and read. Science shows that children absorb concepts much more effectively when they are initially taught in a familiar language.
Her proposal is very practical: we should implement a mother tongue based multilingual education policy. This does not mean we should stop teaching English. English is our link to the global world. But English should be a ladder that we climb after we have established a solid foundation in our own language. You should not be required to study complex subjects in English until you have enough proficiency to actually understand what the teacher is saying. Otherwise, we are just building beautiful schools where no real learning is taking place because the language of instruction is a barrier rather than a bridge.
Honoring the Keepers of Culture
The convocation was not just about speeches; it was also about honoring those who have used their lives to preserve the Nigerian identity. The academy inducted 11 regular Fellows, including academic heavyweights like Prof Remi Raji Oyelade, Prof Nosa Owens Ibie, and Prof Gbenga Solomon Ibiloye.
They also recognized distinguished Nigerians as honorary Fellows, such as the Shehu of Borno and Chancellor of the University of Lagos, Abubakar El Kanemi, alongside Prof Ephraim Lucas. One of the highlights was the Award of Excellence given to the legendary filmmaker Tunde Kelani. If you have ever watched a Tunde Kelani film, you know that he is a master of using the Yoruba language to tell stories that resonate globally. He is a living example of how indigenous language can be a tool for world class art. The Distinguished Life Fellowship Award was also given to Prof Emeritus Femi Osofisan, a giant of African literature.
From Policy to Action
Perhaps the most stinging critique of the day came from Prof Balogun regarding our national habit of making laws and then ignoring them. He pointed out that Nigeria actually has enough laws and institutional frameworks to support mother tongue education. We have the papers, the committees, and the plans. What we lack is the real action.
It is easy to hold a convocation and talk about decolonization, but the real work happens in the Ministry of Education and in our living rooms. It happens when a teacher is encouraged to explain a difficult concept in Hausa to help a struggling student. It happens when a state government invests in printing textbooks in local languages. It happens when a father decides that his children must speak their mother tongue fluently before they master a foreign accent.
A Final Thought for the Future
The 28th convocation of the Nigerian Academy of Letters was a reminder that we are at a crossroads. We can continue down the path of linguistic assimilation, where we slowly lose our connection to our ancestors and our culture. Or, we can choose the path of pride and practical education.
The real measure of our success as a nation is not how well we can mimic the West, but how well we can use our own resources to solve our own problems. If we want to build a Nigeria that is truly strong and independent, we must start by giving our children back their voices. We must let them learn in the language of their hearts. As the scholars at the academy have shown, language is more than just words; it is the foundation of our existence. It is time to stop borrowing tools and start using our own.